Chapter 37
The space station Shepard found himself on was replete with every luxury. Indeed, the installation was so large, it even housed a city's worth of people, and all the appropriate housing and buildings required to sustain such a population. Currently, they were in a grand ballroom. It was a spectacle of fountains and chandeliers, and adorned with gold ornamentation everywhere.
Shepard was wearing a black suit, similar to what he'd worn several times before, when station had demanded. On his arm was Ashrai, who was wrapped in diaphenous formal robes. A matching white hood was draped over Ashrai's head, hiding her dreadlocks. Shepard nodded appreciatively at her. The evening gown was cut in the right places to draw the eye, yet flowed enough near her legs to hide a sidearm.
Shepard had to admit, "I feel somewhat naked without my gun..."
Beside them, Grunt chuckled, "that's what you have me around for..."
"Don't tell me-" started the Captain.
"What are they gonna do, take it from me?!" demanded the krogan, "HAH! Let them try..."
Shepard controlled his gestures, as Ashrai squeezed his arm. Crichton had to remember that body language was everything to these people. Grunt wouldn't be scrutinized for fear of Clan Urdnot. But he, the "Butcher of Bahak," would have the eyes of everyone in the room. Already, the SPECTRE could feel the intense stares of the crowd gathered in the room, all of them batarian.
"Where's your father?" he asked.
"Introducing you to the leaders of the Hegemony," whispered Ashrai.
Shepard was about to ask why he wasn't present, then recalled the politics involved here, "huh, they really like the cloak and dagger stuff, don't they?"
Ashrai remained silent, nodding imperceptibly.
He assumed that anything said could also be overheard. Shepard scratched his ear, using the gesture to hide his communique over the comm, "well then, I guess it's ears only..."
It was code to the other person on the line, indicating that he wasn't at liberty to speak freely to the other end. Shepard heard Liara's voice through his earpiece…
"I'll make sure to keep you appraised of all the guests...sir..."
Shepard blinked several times, getting used to the new drawl that Liara spoke with. Of course, the encryption protocols of the Shadow Broker couldn't be easily broken; Liara's pride wouldn't allow it. It was still odd to hear what sounded like a Texan accent coming from the asari. Still, he couldn't refuse her a bit of fun.
"So," said Shepard, pursing his lips, "Balak isn't here?"
"He deemed it...prudent sir," offered Liara.
"But he's paying for everything here," continued the SPECTRE.
"Of course," explained Ashrai.
Shepard nodded, gesturing to a passing waiter with green skin. He noted the slave collar on the drell, and swallowed the bile rising to his throat. Culture or no, the concept grated on him.
Crichton soldiered through, keeping his appearance calm, "a bottle of your finest for the lady..."
The slave fumbled for a moment, "erhm, the top label is reserved for our highest diplomats...sir..."
Shepard eyed the waiter, who had remained silent and detached until now, as was the bulwark of his people. He caught sight of another batarian, an overboss in the same clothes as the wait-staff. This batarian head-waiter sneered contemptuously at him. To Ashrai, draped on Shepard's arm, the overboss postively showered disdain with his eyes alone.
Crichton got the message. He was being tested; and Ashrai, a former slave, and his host, was being insulted. Therefore, it fell to Shepard to uphold her honor, and by extension, his own.
Ashrai squeezed his arm again, "it is unseemly to argue with the help."
Shepard nodded, turning to Grunt. He couldn't rely on the krogan to fight his battles, however...
"My fellow Ambassador, are we thirsty?"
Grunt smirked, "I suppose I could drink, although I don't know if any of these pansy drinks are worthy of us."
Shepard shrugged nonchalantly, "it would be a shame for Admiral Balak to suffer the injustice of being called a bad host...I suppose I should never have let him survive that affair on Terra Firma...he'd never live down this embarrasment."
The SPECTRE played up the pompous, cocksure demeanor. He made sure that he spoke just loud enough to be overheard by the surrounding partygoers.
'As if they weren't already eavesdropping,' he thought drily.
The poor drell was getting positively pale, and Ashrai was all but clawing at his arm, though her face betrayed nothing. Shepard could hear Liara chuckle over the radio.
"Still, I suppose I am magnanimous enough to forgive him," stated Shepard, "after all, we did forge a peace that lead to the demise of the Reapers."
Grunt laughed, "well, after you've destroyed the largest, toughest things around, nothing really challenges anymore...I guess I can make do with a drink...for a start."
Shepard laughed, "indeed."
He turned, so that he could eye both the drell, and more importantly, the batarian overboss not far behind.
In a completely cold and deadpan voice, he said, "fine...two bottles, and I'll consider the matter forgotten..."
He didn't so much as raise his voice, simply allowing his demeanor to portray a general tone of annoyance. He squared his shoulders, brooking no retort, as if inviting any reason at all to crush the ants he saw before him.
Shepard felt sorry for the waiter, but noticed a slight twitch appear at the corner of the drell's mouth. It seemed the slave knew Shepard's intent clearly. The batarian overboss made himself scarce, as the drell bowed, rushing off to bring Shepard his bottles.
"Well done," whispered Liara, "I wish I'd had you along during my summits on Thessia."
Shepard could understand. Liara had explained once before, how she'd been ostracized for being a "pureblood" asari. Though he couldn't understand it, most asari looked down on the practice of breeding within the species, as "nothing was gained." Being the daughter of the Matriarch Benezia, a traitor, likely hadn't helped.
Indeed, as Liara's father had revealed, many of the other asari had placed a general alert on her. Liara had built up many contacts in her time as an information broker on Illium. She had consorted with more than a few questionable figures. Therefore, if Liara fell out of line, Aethyta was to inform the asari Matriarchs. The likely result would then be Liara's assassination. Considering Aethyta was now the asari Councilor, Shepard assumed the Matriarchs' priorities had...shifted.
"Next time, I promise," he whispered, covering his mouth with a handkercheif, "I'll be happy to join you on Thessia."
Soon enough, the drell returned with the bottles. Shepard calmly waited until the waiter opened the bottle, and began to pour the alcohol. The SPECTRE glanced at Ashrai, who politely declined. It would be unseemly to take such a gesture from one who had insulted her, after all. Crichton glanced at Grunt, who merely took a whole bottle and knocked it back.
The krogan belched, "I've had better."
The Human turned back to the waiter, "I find the company of my host intoxicating enough, thank you..."
Turning to Ashrai, he tilted his neck to the left, the gesture of respect. She, in turn, tilted a bit more deeply, yielding to Shepard the higher honor. Ashrai was basically telling everyone that she was inferior to Shepard, simply because her father was his equal. Being a former slave, she couldn't allow herself to dishonor her father.
He found the whole matter distasteful. Shepard took Ashrai by both hands, as he led her onto the dance floor.
As they began to twirl to the music, the batarian looked at him, "Captain?"
He shrugged it off, "the lady looked like she was bored, and I'd be a poor guest to allow you to remain so."
"Sorry Liara," he whispered, "I'll make it up to you."
"No worries," replied Liara through his comms, "I'll make sure you do."
As Ashrai drew in breathlessly for the dance, Shepard couldn't help but notice an extra bit of bouyancy about her chest, more so than he'd been expecting. He didn't consider himself a cad, but a man couldn't help but notice.
"Quad," was generally used to describe krogan male genitalia, specifically the two sets of testicles. He'd heard the term used by several batarians over the years, assuming they meant the same. It seemed, however, that the term for batarians actually referenced their females' mammaries instead.
Shepard avoided glancing at Ashrai's breasts. What the hell did it matter if she had four or not?! It was none of his business.
She caught the look in his face, and smirked, "find something you like, Captain?"
He refused to be goaded, replying stoicly, "dancing with a beautiful woman is always enjoyable...I'll just have to make sure Jack doesn't kill me."
Ashrai laughed again, but stopped short as the music ended, and a slow clapping began to reach their ears. Shepard disengaged from Ashrai, turning to see another batarian, green-skinned, with an almost red glint in his eyes. Shepard noted a burn scar along the top of the headcrest. This batarian's cape was affixed to what seemed like formal armor.
The color faded from Ashrai's face, though she allowed no other emotion to show in her eyes.
"Captain Shepard," she said evenly, "allow me to introduce General Garmok, head of Clan Akesh..."
Shepard's ears pricked at the address. This was the man who had sent assassins after Ashrai, who had railed against her Clan, who had effectively killed Terric. None of it could be proven, of course. The batarian's leering grin and narrowed eyes were all the proof that Shepard needed, he already hated this man. Still, there was no need to appear rude…
The SPECTRE waited for Garmok to address Ashrai, which he did with a tilt of the head to the right, a gesture of superiority. It was an insult, but one Ashrai couldn't afford to acknowledge. Neither could she counter, at risk of shaming her father. Ashrai was left with no recourse, and remained still.
Shepard forestalled her reply, playing the ignorant human, "General Garmok, well met."
The batarian turned to Shepard, as if he'd only just noticed the SPECTRE. He tilted his head ever so slightly to the left, every movement screaming that the gesture was done out of necessity.
"The Butcher of Bahak," he sneered.
Shepard arched an eyebrow, tilting his head even less than the batarian had, ceding Garmok the lesser honor. Several other batarians nearby shifted uncomfortably, noting the gesture from Shepard.
'Your insults are beneath my contempt,' thought Shepard, feeding the thought into his body language.
"I think," continued Shepard, "that the sacrifices of your people deserve a bit more than some grandiose headline. They bought the Galaxy more time, at the cost of their lives."
He turned to Grunt, "what would you say of their sacrifice, Ambassador?"
"Worthy, honorable," the krogan nodded, "such an apparent lack of respect for that battle is a grevious insult to warriors of every species."
Just like that, Shepard had turned the insulting title, "Butcher of Bahak," into something that insulted not only him, but also the batarian people as a whole. Garmok blinked several times, which was quite a display for a species with four eyes. He glanced to the sides, as several batarian guests covered their mouths, hiding contemptuous smiles.
Ashrai silently praised Shepard's deft handling of the situation, though she grinned openly. He'd managed to completely shift the mood of the room in his favor.
"Well said," came Carlan Verrad's voice, from beside them, "time to set such petty arguments aside. We must forge a new peace, if we are to prosper."
Ashrai squeezed Shepard's arm once more, before letting go. She glanced to Grunt, who nodded, taking her arm instead.
Admiral Carlan took Shepard, hand around the human's shoulder, as they began to make the rounds with the upper echelons of the batarian Hegemony. They pointedly ignored Garmok. With a final contemptuous sneer, the leader of Clan Akesh turned, following the coattails of the ensemble.
Once they were gone, Grunt shook his head, knocking back the drink in his hand, "damn pyjaks...I should just cave their skulls in."
Ashrai clenched her fists, which had been trembling, as she turned to the krogan. She took one look at his unaffected face, and started laughing.
"It's refreshing to be in the company of such honesty," she said breathlessly, "a rare trait."
Grunt sniffed, "that's because you hang around too many idiots...I don't envy Shepard...the man has a quad!"
"Erm," Ashrai blinked, "he's a male of his species, yes?!"
The krogan looked at her like she was insane, "of course he is! We are both fine examples of manhood, it takes a real quad to kill a thresher maw on foot...dammit!"
Ashrai grinned, recalling krogan anatomy, "let's go find a place to sit down and drink something good, while I explain a few things to you..."
"Fine by me," he uttered, "I was about to start breaking some tables."
"Sadly, he's not joking," Ashrai said aloud to nobody.
She lead Grunt through the crowd. Unsurprisingly, nobody got in their way.
Shepard shook the hand of one final batarian diplomat, tilting his head appropriately. Admiral Carlan then ushered him outside, to a balcony overlooking the gardens. The old batarian adjusted his goggles over his prosthetic eye, laughing as he clapped Shepard on the shoulder.
"Well done my boy," he grinned, "you had Garmok eating crow. I couldn't have done better!"
Shepard looked at the old admiral sideways, "don't be so sure...you handled this lot like a professional. I've seen asari Matriarchs less composed."
Carlan shook his head, "these days, I care little for the game, no time for it!"
The final thing he'd hoped to accomplish, Carlan explained, was this peace with the Council. He wanted to leave a lasting legacy for his daughter, something she could be proud of, so that she could forge her own path once he was gone.
Shepard could understand the sentiment, "still, if I may ask..."
"What happened to my old family?"
The SPECTRE nodded.
The leader of Clan Verrad gestured back to the party, "the damned game...politics. My Clan was attacked by another, and I had no time to gather my generals. My family paid the price, as did others'."
"But Ashrai saved your life..."
"And that of my best tacticians," he continued, "which allowed us time to counterattack. My Clan owes its existence to her, but the bastards couldn't see past her slave collars."
Shepard still couldn't understand, "didn't you free her?
"It didn't matter," explained the old batarian. "She wasn't born of noble blood. What was expected of me, then, was to beget a child with Ashrai."
Shepard nodded, recalling the story, "the line of succession would have deemed such a child a bastard, but still acceptable."
"But she was too young for that," said Carlan, "she had her whole life ahead of her...and I had no heir...maybe if I was ten years younger."
Shepard shook his head. He considered Terra Firma, the salarian STG, the batarian Hegemony...
"Ignorant fools are in plentiful supply, it seems," noted Shepard, "you'd figure the Reaper War would have opened some eyes."
"That's why you're here, eh?"
The SPECTRE nodded again. By now, Liara should have had time to drum up her contacts in the batarian Hegemony. Shepard's own omnitool had provided a remote method for the "Shadow Broker," to access the security systems at the patry. Had they been caught, there would be Hell to pay, but they had needed access to the computer records.
Shepard shook hands again with the admiral, "if you'll excuse me."
Carlan nodded, "of course, plausible deniability...I suddenly find my humours in no state to continue...I must retire..."
The SPECTRE grinned as the old fox left. He reached into his jacket pocket, drawing what looked like a lighter, flicking the wick before shutting it again. A noise canceller affixed to the lighter used Shepard's omnitool as a repeater.
"We're secure," he said into his comm, "you have anything?"
Liara replied, her drawl gone, "yes, but it will take time to sift through the data. EDI and I will be working for a while."
"Draft Traynor if you need," he replied, "what have you got so far?"
He could here Liara flicking her teeth with her tongue, a sign of her exasperation.
"Seems like the esteemed General Garmok has never gained the acclaim of an Admiralcy, despite all the raids on human settlements during colonization disputes."
Shepard narrowed is eyes, "so, was he involved in Mindoir, perhaps even Elysium?"
"Not sure, but he certainly was a proponent of such behavior. It never garnered him anything, as the Alliance turned him back often. Then Balak survived Terra Nova..."
"And went on to lead the batarian fleets for Earth," deduced Shepard, "taking all the glory with it."
Garmok Akesh had struggled to grasp commendation through slavery and death, Shepard found himself caring not at all for this general's plight.
"Any connections to Blood Pack, Eclipse, or STG?"
"Nothing that sticks, mainly the free hires. I also got a bit of disturbing information from Tali, and followed up on it."
Shepard perked up at this last. Aria T'Loak had offered many gifts, in an attempt to absolve part of her debt to Shepard. One such understanding involved a piece of intel she had given to Garrus.
"We know," continued Liara, "that Garmok's Clan is involved heavily in the slave trade."
The SPECTRE shook his head, "I imagine he claims umbrage under that 'indentured servitude' line as well?"
"By law, only the heavily indebted become enslaved. Indentured servants, however, often earn their freedom, adding to the coffers of the Clan, enriching all within its auspices...but Akesh..."
His slaves were predominatly of non-batarian origin. As horrid as Shepard found the practice, Akesh was worse. Even other traders in the Terminus feared to cross him, and even less asked how he got his wares.
"So, other than being amoral, what's the 'disturbing' part?"
Shepard was waiting for the other shoe to drop, as it invariably did. He wasn't disappointed.
"Recently, his slaves have gone missing...and from circumstantial evidence...it seems a great majority of them are...quarians...on Pilgrimage..."
"How did he hide them?" he asked, "and what is he using them for?"
"I...don't know..."
Shepard didn't even know where to begin with that. He couldn't imagine what Tali must be feeling. As horrid as the trade was, this new angle elevated it past "war crimes." No facet of the "caste system" could justify such genocidal behavior.
"Stay on it...I want enough evidence to crucify this bastard..."
Before Shepard could hear the reply, he saw a commotion in the ballroom.
"Damn it...I've got to go..."
In the center of the grand ballroom, a spectacle was playing. Shepard didn't know what had started it, only that Carlan seemed to be facing off against Grunt. Shepard drew up to Grunt, tapping him on the shoulder. The krogan jerked his head around, lowering his shoulders somewhat upon seeing Shepard.
"Grunt?"
The young delegate groaned, turning away, "sorry Battlemaster..."
Carlan patted the krogan on the shoulder, as he gestured with his chin to Shepard. Shepard followed the line of Carlan's gaze, catching sight of what drew his attention. It seemed that Ashrai was glaring daggers at a male batarian, who meerly sneered condescendingly. He seemed familiar to Shepard.
Upon seeing the SPECTRE, his leering grin became wider, "ah, Shepard, so good to see you again..."
This batarian spat the words, as if tasting something foul. The nearby crowd drew back, their silence deafening.
"Again?"
The batarian blinked, "you don't remember? We met near Terra Nova, you coward!"
Now realization gleamed on Shepard. Their host, and the current head of the Admiralty, Balak, had been instrumental in the terrorist attack against the human colony on Terra Nova. During the race to save the colony, the SPECTRE had brokered a quick alliance with his subordinate. The cease-fire had bought him the precious time needed to disarm the bombs, saving the hostages.
"Ah yes, you wanted me to kill Balak for you, seeing as how you were too weak to do it yourself. What was your name again?"
The other batarian sneered through clenched teeth, "Chaarn...and that wasn't the deal...it was to save the hostages..."
Shepard noted the small gesture in Chaarn's body language. He had to remind himself that such gestures meant everything to batarians...
Chaarn had been showing an almost lazy contempt for Ashrai. However, as soon as Shepard had mentioned Balak, Chaarn had squared his shoulders, projecting hostile strength. At least, that's what a batarian would see. A more human perspective, and years of playing poker, allowed Shepard to know a bluff when he saw one.
It also helped that Shepard knew the batarian was lying, but nobody would beleive the "Butcher of Bahak" without proof.
"So, how are things with you and Balak these days?"
Ashrai chimed in, "Chaarn was disgraced, and had to beg for the auspices of any who would have him, currently Clan Akesh."
"Still better than you," snapped Chaarn, "a no-account former slave, clinging to what scraps that doddering fool feeds you."
Ashrai seemed ready to leap for Chaarn's throat.
"That fool," she spat, "is honored enemy to Admiral Balak."
Chaarn sniffed, "yes, and one who declared an honored enemy of this...human..."
Shepard noted that Chaarn hadn't mentioned the title of "Butcher." It seemed the SPECTRE's previous gambit had paid off.
"You will recant your insult to my daughter," said Carlan, coldly calm.
"I shall not beg forgiveness of my inferiors," replied Chaarn.
"You are fortunate your master isn't here," replied the old batarian, "as it is beneath my honor to quarrel with underlings..."
"Many old fools seek protection under such feeble excuses..."
It was then that Shepard noticed a glance from Carlan Verrad.
The man was tough as hardened leather, still in shape, and clearly able to destroy Chaarn. In a culture that esteemed language and projection of strength, it seemed unthinkable that Carlan wouldn't simply kill Chaarn right here. Instead, he had simply flashed a glance at Shepard, before donning a face of stone.
The SPECTRE worked out the logic. Perhaps, as it was beneath Carlan to acknowledge Chaarn, he wouldn't allow himself to speak on Ashrai's behalf. Perhaps the stigma against slaves and indentured servants was such that he COULDN'T. And as Shepard's bargaining chip rested on the shoulders of Carlan's honor...
The SPECTRE cursed inwardly, reminded again of why he hated politics...combat was ever so much simpler. Shepard stepped forward, glaring into Chaarn's eyes, which was difficult, as batarians had two pairs.
"Chaarn, I barely recall you," he began "what I do remember of you speaks volumes to your worth, or lack of it."
The Captain noted a subtle nod from Ashrai's father, and heard a few gasps from the gathered crowd. Several of the males were grinning, and Shepard fought to ignore all the teeth.
"I won't have you insulting them," he continued, "and by extension, me, their honored enemy."
Chaarn reared back as if struck, gesturing at Ashrai, "you speak for this...filth?"
Shepard slowly leaned into the man's face, letting the open malice slip into his voice, "insult her again...and I'll end you...then Garmok can find another lackey..."
Chaarn nodded, leaning back, his lip upcurled, "very well, my master shall make the arrangements...and we shall settle this..."
As the batarian walked off, the crowd parted quickly, and several even clapped. Shepard looked from side to side, not understanding, as he turned back to his friends.
"What have you done?" said Ashrai breathlessly, her hands covering her mouth.
"What he had to," answered Carlan.
Admiral Verrad clapped Shepard's shoulder somberly, and gestured to several aides, who quickly ushered the group into a secluded room, away from the party.
"Er...what just happened...?" demanded the SPECTRE, as he got a sinking feeling in his gut.
Ashrai shook her head again, her voice slightly panicked, "you just challened Clan Akesh to a duel!"
Shepard nodded, "oh, was that it? I thought...WAIT WHAT?!"
They still...had those here? Humanity had outgrown duels well before space travel.
Grunt laughed, as he clapped Shepard on the shoulder, "HAHA! Well done Battlemaster, I look forward to joining you on the killing field!"
"Er, you're not allowed," explained Ashrai.
Grunt drooped, crestfallen, "well, that's no fun..."
Shepard still hadn't said anything, as Grunt began regailing Carlan with stories of their exploits on Tuchanka.
"-killed a Thresher Maw...on foot! And don't forget all the Reapers...this will be nothing..."
The SPECTRE merely stared, dumbfounded, "Liara's going to kill me..."
The asari replied over his intercom, "not before Jack does..."
He noted her concern and worry, with a slight tinge of frustration, even anger. Then, he realized what Liara had just told him...
"Oh shit..."